Blake was sat outside in the sun, now dressed in her khaki shorts and white t-shirt, enjoying the warm weather with an untouched book and a bottle of water propped beside her.

Now that she was in something more comfortable, the day had certainly become more enjoyable.

And of course that had nothing at all to do with Negan being back.

Not a single bit.

She was sat on the small balcony, alone as always, watching through squinted eyes as several Saviours poked long spikes through oncoming walkers that leered at the fence frighteningly.

Each and every day, the dead seemed to be drawn here in their droves. Probably due to the masses of vehicles that seemed to constantly move in and out of the Sanctuary, but probably also partly due to the sound of the trapped walkers that stood attached, protecting the long fences surrounding the buildings.

Blake had at first, partly looked out for the dead figure of David when she had arrived out here, just a few feet away from where 'it' had happened. Gulping as her eyes had flitted amongst the decaying walkers. But she knew in reality that the entirety of him was now gone.

And that, well…that was all her fault.

But she kept telling herself that this world was different now.

And that if David had had the chance, he would have done exactly the same thing to her.

In this world, it was do or die.

And Blake just had to accept that now.

But suddenly, before she could dwell on this any longer, a large looming shadow fell across her seat.

Blake immediately pursed her lips, almost rolling her eyes huffily.

"You here to bother me again?" she uttered a little snappily, unable to help her lips twitching up into the smallest of smirks.

But to her surprise, the reply that came, was not from the leader of the Saviours, Negan, as expected, but instead from another voice.

"I-I'm sorry, I just saw you out here and thought I'd say hello. Thought it might be appropriate to offer my condolences and the like, given the situation," came the quiet, low tone of-

"Eugene," said Blake suddenly, peering up at the mullet-wearing man through the sunlight that silhouetted him. "Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Eugene stepped around Blake, his mouth fixed into a straight line.

He nodded down at her.

"I just thought I would come and see how you were," he said in matter-of-fact tone. "After what happened the other night….well, that would be hard on anyone. But if it's any consolation, I thought you did the right thing. David seemed like, if you pardon my French, a pretty bad egg."

Blake bit at her lip, giving a gulp.

"I'm fine," she said promptly. "I'm, uhhh…I'm over it."

Was that a lie? Blake wasn't so sure.

Should she have felt guilty that she didn't really feel, well, anything right now?

Not hurt…not pain…not sadness….just nothing.

"Are you sure? Because I know from first-hand experience how hard these things can hit you, when you lose someone you l-" began Eugene, but Blake cut across him suddenly.

"I'm fine, Eugene, ok?!" she said in a slightly raised voice, getting to her feet suddenly.

Blake at this moment felt harassed.

Defensive and angry.

She snatched up the book and the bottle of water that was sat at her side.

But Eugene, as solemn looking as ever, merely blinked, not reacting to Blake's outburst at all.

But Blake was in no mood to be questioned. Not right now.

Why did people think that they had the right to do that?

It was almost as if they wanted Blake to feel bad…to feel upset. And was she really a villain for not feeling those things?

For not feeling anything at all?

She turned on her heel huffily.

"See you later, Eugene.," she uttered sharply, heading inside, not even taking a second look back towards the dark-haired scientist.

Blake was infuriated.

Feeling utterly defensive right now.

But maybe she wasn't mad at Eugene for asking if she was ok. Maybe she was mad at the fact that she hadn't felt anything over these last few days.

Was she over David? Over his death? The death of her partner of years….the man who she loved long before the apocalypse. Long before anything…..

Surely she should feel something. But all Blake seemed to feel, was empty inside….longing to feel anything at all…

Because she should be feeling something right now? Surely?

Blake heaved a difficult sigh, heading back up to her room on the third floor.

She hadn't seen Negan since her brief run-in with him in the marketplace earlier. But if truth be told she wasn't in the mood to see him either.

All the people around her seemed to want to do, was ask questions. Ask things, that Blake just didn't want to give an answer to right now.

And so, feeling utterly conflicted, Blake shoved open the door to her room, slamming it shut behind her. The entire room seemed to reverberate after it, but she didn't care….

Flopping instead, down onto her bed huffily, grinding her teeth in irritation at the world.

It was late afternoon by the time that Blake had finally cooled down, barely remembering why she had been so snappy in the first place.

She had laid back on her bed just staring at the ceiling blankly….until the sun had shifted all the way around the building, finally getting lower in the sky, bringing on the evening's much-needed coolness.

Giving a sigh, Blake had lifted herself up onto her elbows, just as there had been a sharp knock upon the door.

"Come in," said Blake in a hazy voice, half-expecting, once again, for it to be Negan, or even Eugene. But to her surprise it wasn't either man.

The door was, instead, slowly pushed open, by the tall and skinny, blonde figure of Dwight, who stood there, face serious, with a small, wrapped package in his hand.

He sucked at his teeth for a moment, staring over at Blake under hooded eyelids, before venturing a step or two into the room.

Blake raised a single eyebrow in his direction, swinging her legs around to the side of the bed and placing a hand either side of her.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a careful voice. Not quite sure why Dwight would be frequenting her bedroom.

But Blake soon got her answer.

"This is from Negan," uttered Dwight in a quiet yet serious voice, tossing the small, soft-looking parcel, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, down onto the bed beside Blake. "He wants you to wear this tonight."

Blake gave a sudden frown at the mention of Negan's name.

She froze, staring up at the scarred man for a moment.

"Wants me to wear what?" she asked in an accusing voice, wrinkling her nose.

But Dwight gave a small huff and just nodded towards the parcel.

Blake continued to frown up at him for a long few seconds, before finally pulling at the wrapping and untying the string hurriedly.

She immediately scowled as she saw what was inside.

"You have got to be kidding me," she said bluntly, looking up at Dwight once again and plucking the thin flowery summer dress she had been looking at earlier today in the marketplace, up, as well as a pair of white sandals with a small heel. "There is now way I'm wearing this."

But Dwight folded his skinny arms across himself.

"He wants you to go for dinner with him," said the blonde man, pursing his lips, obviously very aware that Blake wouldn't be too impressed by this request.

Instantly, Blake shot Dwight a scathing look.

"What? To Olive Garden or was he thinking somewhere a bit more classy?" she muttered in a scathing voice.

But Dwight just shifted his weight from foot to foot.

"Downstairs," he said factually, as if she was seriously asking a question. "I'm supposed to take you down there at eight."

Blake gave an annoyed huff at this.

Who the hell did Negan think he was?

"Do I have a choice in this?" she snarled, gritting her teeth, knowing full well that it was likely she didn't.

But Dwight rubbed at his face with his hand, pausing for a second, before looking at Blake once again.

"Not really," he replied honestly. "If you don't agree to come, then you don't eat. I'm not allowed to let you out of this room until you're in that dress, apparently."

Blake gave a loud growl of annoyance.

"He is such an asshole!" she said suddenly, getting to her feet and almost stamping her foot in irritation, balling her fists at her sides.

Blake could feel that bad mood of hers rising in her once again.

How the hell could one man possibly be that arrogant?

"Well I'll starve then, because there is no way I'm wearing that for him!" she said loudly, after a long minute of her fuming had passed.

Blake right now was pacing across the room, pointing down at the dress and sandals furiously.

But Dwight just shrugged, staring back at her.

"Suit yourself," he said with a small sigh. "But if I were you, I'd just do it. For everyone's sake."

And with that, Dwight walked back out of the door, pulling it promptly shut behind him.

But Blake stared after him gaping, for a long second or two, before letting out a long roar of annoyance.

Nope…

Nu-uh….

There was no way Negan was going to get her into that dress tonight.

Not in a million years….

Sorry that was a bit of a crappy short filler. I'm struggling with motivation and not really sure if I should carry on with this fic much longer. Depends really on how people are feeling about it.

Thanks to JudithMosalii, leahscil, Dollfacex94, Booboo, Xmidniteangel15X, FriendsWithTheMonster, Shadowlover1222, whereshadowsplays and PlutoCookie for reviewing.

Let me know what you thought.

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